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Ghosts of Yore

Ghosts of Yore

Smoke rose slowly as I blew across the small pile of tinder but it didn’t take long to coax a flame from its hidey hole, and then another, and then, in the blink of an eye, the small bundle of straw and twigs were engulfed in fire. Quickly, I added a few larger pieces, and then knelt low and gently blew across the flames once more. With each breath, the flames flickered and danced, backing away from the sudden breeze; shunning it. They stood upright, however, with each pause of breath, growing larger, angrier, and more defiant. Finally they climbed to the larger pieces.